


longing

by kiyala



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Dildos, Fantasizing, M/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-15
Updated: 2016-01-15
Packaged: 2018-05-14 02:58:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5727172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiyala/pseuds/kiyala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kasamatsu gets off while fantasising about Kise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	longing

Kise doesn't have to know about this.

As far as Kasamatsu's concerned, _no one_ has to know about this, and no one _is_ going to know about it.

Kise is an annoying little shit most of the time, and Kasamatsu will be the first person to point it out, but fuck if he isn't a _talented_ little shit, in perfect control of himself on the court, playing with a grace that Kasamatsu doesn't even notice when he's on the court too. Watching him from the bench is another thing entirely.

Everyone knows Kise's gorgeous, it isn't even something that the rest of the guys in the basketball club are afraid of admitting. Kise is universally beautiful and Kasamatsu's heard some of the guys talking about it when Kise isn't around, talking about how if they had to pick a guy…

Kasamatsu doesn't join in on those conversations. It's not like it's a case of Kasamatsu having to pick a guy because, hey. He found guys hot before Kise came into his life. He just hasn't found anyone quite as hot as Kise, ever.

The house is empty, but Kasamatsu goes to his bedroom and locks the door behind him anyway, just in case. He was talking about training plans with the coach today, while the rest of the club were playing practice matches. They'd arrived at the court just in time to catch the tail end of the game and Kasamatsu can still close his eyes and recall exactly how Kise looked on the court, well and truly in his element. He plays with confidence, moves effortlessly across the court and Kasamatsu's hard just thinking about it.

He sits on the edge of his bed, tugging his trackpants down just enough that he can pull his cock out. He strokes it, biting his lip hard. He could jerk himself off quickly, be done with it and then push the thoughts out of his mind, like he usually does.

Except he doesn't want it to be over that quickly this time. Not when he's burning up with longing. He already knows it's not going to be satisfying enough.

Swearing under his breath, he kicks his pants off the rest of the way and strips out of the rest of his clothes, leaving them in a heap on his bedroom floor. He grabs the box hidden in the back of his closet with his dildo inside and the bottle of lube he uses when jerking off.

The dildo is a plain one and he'd bought it not long after turning eighteen. He was curious before buying it. It's seen plenty of use since Kise joined the team.

Kasamatsu slicks his fingers with the lube, kneeling on his bed and stroking himself first before he reaches behind himself, rubbing the tip of one finger across his entrance.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he lets himself think about Kise fingering him instead.

Kise would be gentle, Kasamatsu thinks. He'd be cautious about the way he touched Kasamatsu because as flamboyant as he likes to act, Kasamatsu's glimpsed something softer, gentler underneath and that's the Kise he wants. That's the Kise he wants fucking him, even if the thought makes his cheeks burn with embarrassment.

He slides the first finger into himself, taking a deep breath. Would Kise tell him to relax? Would Kise be experienced with this sort of thing? Kasamatsu's head spins at the thought, imagining Kise spreading him open, slowly, expertly.

Adding a second finger, Kasamatsu gives himself a moment to adjust, then slides them deeper. He steadies himself with a hand braced on the bed, fucking himself with his fingers. Kise would tease him, without question. He'd probably make Kasamatsu beg. Kasamastu _would_.

He keeps going, until he has three fingers inside himself and his forehead pressed to the mattress. His breath is coming out in soft pants and he can't take it any more. He pulls his fingers out, grabbing for his dildo and rubbing lube onto it before he kneels up again, positioning it against him.

He'd ride Kise like this, he thinks to himself. He'd push Kise onto his back and take his cock, looking down at him, watching the pleasure playing out on his face.

With a quiet grunt, he sinks down onto the dildo.

He wonders if Kise would look the same in the middle of sex as he does at the end of a particularly long and difficult game, flushed and sweaty and laughing breathlessly. He wonders what the differences would be, wants to see them for himself.

Realistically, though, this is probably the best he's going to get.

He holds onto the base of the dildo, riding it hard, knees digging into the bed. He hasn't touched his cock since he started fingering himself, but it's dripping a wet mess all over the place. Kasamatsu wishes that he had the foresight to put a towel down, but he was too desperate for that before and he's not going to stop so he can do it now.

He mouths Kise's name, not giving it any breath, not voicing it. He just wants to feel it on his lips, on his tongue, and he mouths it again and again as he picks up his pace. Kise would like it, he thinks, to have Kasamatsu chanting his name as he approaches climax. He'd probably get off on it.

Kasamatsu desperately wants to see Kise getting off. He wants to be responsible for it, he wants them to wreck each other, wants the way Kise watches him to _mean_ something, even if he's too afraid to ask, too afraid to cross the line there when he can just settle for this.

When he comes, he mouths Kise's name again, whispers it even though he tries not to.

He stays where he is for a moment, letting himself indulge a little longer, letting himself imagine what it would be like to collapse against Kise after they've both come.

He gets up after a minute, wiping himself off and changing his sheets before he goes to take a shower.

Tomorrow, he's going to look Kise in the eyes, as he always does, and pretend he isn't filled with desperate longing. He's getting better at it, he thinks.

(He's not—roughly fifteen minutes away, Kise is fucking his hand and imagining it's Kasamatsu instead, remembering the heated gazes they shared, the lingering touches. But Kasamatsu doesn't need to know about that.)


End file.
